​ In the book The Secret of San Miniato (Renzo Manetti) a father tell his son: As long as anger and arrogance fail to gain a foothold in your heart, you will be able to find the beginning of the path. He’s referring to the path to God, to peace, to wholeness, whatever you name it. As I wander about Florence by myself, it feels relatively easy to release anger and arrogance from gaining much of a foothold on me. Acceptance can usually replace anger—acceptance and adjustment. For example, I accept that bicyclists weave in and out among the pedestrians and thus I have adapted to the universal, unwritten rule—keep walking and the bicyclist will peddle around you. Arrogance has always been more of a challenge than anger; in Italy I am continually humbled by my lack of language learning. One of the benefits of solo travel, or of taking appreciable amounts of time alone, is that I have the opportunity to step away from the anger and arrogance I feel in my every day life with others. Instead, I have time to practice love and humility, to wipe the state clean.